Professor Keller
by Salomedancing
Summary: Alison and Peter Grey are living a charmed life, young, wealthy and in love. Until they meet a Professor Keller and find themselves trapped in a spiralling nightmare. Set between Terror of the Autons and The Mind of Evil. Featuring Delgado!Master (The Doctor's part is very small). Re-written version. Warnings can be found in an author's note in the beginning of the first chapter.
1. Party Girl

**Warnings: None for this chapter, but the following will be true for the fic as a whole: Mind games. Mental dominance. Brief scenes of violence, but nothing too graphic. Referenced dubious consent, both het and slash. Character death. Suicide attempt.**

 **AN: This story is mainly a horror story and that horror is mostly psychological. I have always seen the Master as a person who doesn't mind a spot of violence, but his main kick is mental domination. So this fic is about the Master destroying the life of two people, basically just because he can and enjoys doing so. It sprung from thinking of how the Master got the resources for his scheme in The Mind of Evil. And what do the most evil being in the universe do for fun and relaxation when he is not plotting world domination?**

 **This is a re-write. When I first wrote it I wasn't quite sure where the story would take me and after I finished a few things continued to nag me. I think this is the best story I have written, but some parts felt clunky and some things didn't feel properly grounded. And as I didn't stop thinking of the things I would like to change, I ended up re-writing it.**

 **Often when I write certain songs gets attached to it and I listen to them over and over. When I wrote this fic I somehow ended up listening to Elvis Costello. For some reason he has always been an artist I have connected with Doctor Who and without meaning to, Professor Keller got it's own soundtrack. So the chapter titles are all songs by Elvis Costello.**

 **A huge thank you to Vvj5 who beta-ed this chapter and to Inkfire who cheered me on and nit-picked the previous version.**

 _They say you're nothing but a party girl  
Just like a million more all over the world_

Alison met Peter Grey in the unlikely place of one of London's cemeteries. She had lost her parents in a car crash when she was nineteen and she often visited their graves. A few times she ran into a blond man of her own age until one day he asked her to have coffee with him. Peter's parents, it turned out, occupied the grave next to Alison's. His mother had died when he was a small child and his father of a heart attack when he was twenty. It quickly became clear they had more in common than just being orphaned and suddenly they found themselves heads over heels in love. Aside from Alison's older sister Janice, who was married and lived outside York, neither of them had any family to talk about and they thought it would make perfect sense to get married and be together forever. Alison felt she had stepped into a fairy tale: Peter was as handsome as any self-respecting Prince Charming ought to be and if he didn't have a kingdom, he was very rich. The senior Mr. Grey had worked hard and succeeded when most people don't and after he died, everything he had gained went to Peter.

At first Alison thought she was living in her own private paradise. She had a whole town house she could do what she wanted with, a woman called Maria who came and cleaned three times every week, and she could travel and shop to her heart's delight. But eventually she realised that for Peter, this paradise came with his very own mental snake. His father, who never remarried, had devoted all his time to his only child. But despite his pride that Peter would never have to work, he also managed to instil in him a sense that only hard work was something worth having. So, Peter had ended up with a complex where he felt he didn't have any real right to enjoy his money and an earnest wish to be useful, but not knowing how. Alison often felt she would like to shake her late father-in-law when she saw how Peter fluttered about, looking for something worth doing, but never finding anything he truly believed in.

Then he met Professor Keller somewhere and suddenly he was the only thing Peter talked about. Alison didn't really register it at first - there had been other projects Peter had been excited about, which then came to nothing. Later, after everything had fallen apart, she thought there should have been some kind of omen the first time you heard the name of the person who would destroy your life, but she hadn't even been listening.

Eventually she gathered that Emil Keller was a brilliant Swiss scientist, specialising in the rehabilitation of criminals. He had constructed a machine that could remove all criminal tendencies, turning the culprit into a useful and law abiding citizen with the minimum of discomfort, or at least he would be able to make one with the proper funding. It sounded terribly boring in Alison's ears, but undoubtedly worthwhile. And if Peter felt it was something he wanted to engage in, then it was fine by her. Peter had time to talk about the fabled Professor quite a bit before Alison finally met him. They were holding a small party and Peter had invited his new friend. After hearing so much about him she had had time to develop a certain curiosity. Her idea of a professor was an absent-minded old man with a flowing white beard, an image she knew was a cliché, but which she couldn't quite shake off.

Professor Keller was punctual, arriving well before most of the other guests and he didn't look at all as Alison had imagined. He turned out to be a well-dressed man in his fifties with a greying dark hair and beard and a rather lovely voice. Somehow Peter's tale had projected someone very tall, but in her high heels Alison found she stood eye to eye to the Professor, and there was nothing distracted about him at all. To her surprise she didn't like him. He was exquisitely polite, pronouncing himself entranced, but he also had strange hooded eyes. They burned an odd hazel colour while his penetrating gaze seemed to take stock of her and then deem her of little value. Alison felt intimidated, and a little confused; she was so used to making an impression on men that she took it for granted. It was humiliating both to realise that, as well as being so indifferently dismissed. But she shrugged inwardly, gave him a pleasant smile and turned to her other guests. It wasn't necessary, after all, to like all of Peter's friends; she was quite sure he found some of hers less than amusing as well.

She quite forgot the Professor until she passed him and Peter just as the former complimented the beauty of their home. Peter, who clearly felt it was important for Alison to get to know his new friend, promptly roped her in to provide a guided tour:

"My wife would love to show you the rest of the house. She is the one who has worked wonders with it. You should have seen it when my father lived here; it was absolutely horrendous."

Alison gave Peter a glower over her shoulder as she showed their guest out, but he just grinned. She was proud of her redecorations; the town house had been dreary before she started. Peter's father's sense of style had left a lot to be desired. Normally she relished the chance of showing off her home, but she sensed Professor Keller wasn't in the least interested; he was merely too polite to refuse. Besides, if he found her uninteresting, she found him a little frightening and didn't really want to spend time alone with him. So she only briefly opened a few doors before she led him to the library, gauging that if any room would interest him, it would be this one.

Ironically enough this was the only room she had left untouched in her redecorating frenzy. Her father-in-law had not been interested in books but had wanted a library nevertheless. He had done it up the way he believed such a room should be, a knowledge mostly collected from old movies, and had filled it with leather and beautiful books with gold lettering on their spines. The result reminded Alison of a comfortable stage set - a room that had looked out of keeping with the rest of the house even before Alison and Peter had moved in. She liked it as it was and often spent time there, the old armchairs much more comfortable than the modern sofas in the living room.

Professor Keller seemed to like it too as he roused himself to speak instead of just nodding.

"A beautiful room," he remarked.

"Yes, isn't it? It was my father-in-law's idea; but I like it; it's a very nice room to read in."

"So you read?"

Alison laughed to hide how annoyed she felt over his surprised tone. "Why, did you think that I spent my whole time shopping?"

Professor Keller, who had been studying the books, turned and looked at her.

"I have insulted you," he said, but he sounded interested rather than apologetic. "Why? You are very beautiful. I had the impression that your purpose was to be decorative and provide a suitable home life."

He looked intently at her, and Alison could almost physically feel the full force of his attention focusing on her. She had a peculiar sense of being analysed as if she was a previously discarded specimen he had already placed and labelled only to have it do something unexpected that warranted his reevaluating. It was a disturbing feeling, and she took refuge in an unusually hot-tempered reaction.

"What do you mean? Are you telling me I'm stupid just because I never studied? Is there something wrong with taking care of a home? I can't imagine you would appreciate it if your own wife ran all over the place and did other things besides taking care of you!"

Alison's imagination had no problems conjuring up a suitable wife for the Professor. A somewhat stout woman with practical shoes who made sure he always looked immaculate and had plenty of undisturbed time for his important research. Professor Keller, however, instantly punctuated that little fantasy.

"I'm not married," he said rather distantly. "But if I had a wife I would certainly expect her to make full use of her capacity. You have this strange custom here of allowing gender to stand in the way of a person's true aptitude. I admit I made the assumption you were using your mind to the best of your ability already."

He smiled which dispelled the haughtiness of his features and made him look much nicer. "Come now, Mrs. Grey, we shouldn't quarrel this early in our acquaintance. Please accept my apology and let us be friends."

Alison felt obliged to apologise in return. "I'm sorry; it was I who was rude."

"Not at all. As a scientist, I should never forget not to reach conclusions without sufficient data. Shall we go return to your other guests? I am sure your company is sorely missed."

"History," Alison said abruptly when they were leaving the library. She wasn't sure why, perhaps to prove that she could use her head.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wanted to study history, but Daddy said university would be a waste of time and money and history was such a useless subject anyway. I suppose it's silly, caring about things long gone."

But the Professor didn't seem to think so. "No, no; here you only have the past to learn from. How can it not be important to know it?"

Alison gave him her first genuine smile. She still found him a bit alarming, but he seemed determined to make her feel better. When they came back to the party he had managed to make her laugh, and she had decided he was rather charming, after all.

Much later, when Alison and Peter had gone to bed, he turned to her eagerly.

"So, what did you think of the Professor?"

"I think I liked him. But he is a little scary. Don't you think so?"

"I'm sure it's just because you don't know him yet."

Alison sighed sleepily. "I'm sure you're right. We actually had a pretty interesting conversation when I showed him the house."

Peter continued to talk about the Professor and his project, but she lost the thread. She had her own things to think about. When her father had convinced her to not go further with her education she had believed that door was closed for good and she hadn't thought about it since then. But it wasn't, not really. She and Peter wanted children, but not just yet and she had both the time and money to study if she wanted to. Her conversation with the Professor felt as if it had brought her an unexpected gift, opening up a new path for her and she could feel a small stir of expectation.

"I think I would like to do an evening course or something. Keep up a bit," she said, interrupting Peter mid-sentence.

He laughed. "What? Something important like napkin-folding or flower arranging?"

She threw a pillow at him, but then she became serious. "Do you think that's all I'm good for? Being pretty and keeping the house nice?"

Peter stopped laughing. "Of course not. I was just teasing. I'm sure you will be fantastic at it - you're much smarter than me."

And with that he pulled Alison closer, and they both stopped thinking of anything but each other.


	2. Watch Your Step

_Don't say a word_  
 _Don't say anything_

Alison met the Professor again a few days later, quite by chance. She was having lunch on her own as he appeared at her table, murmuring the usual phrases one says to an almost stranger you unexpectedly meet. Alison had to be polite and ask him to sit down, which he accepted. Even if he had been promoted to nice in her book, she still wasn't sure she wanted a private tête-à-tête like this, but her worry was quickly dispelled. She told him about her new plans to study and was met with such warm appreciation she felt quite exhilarated. He then proceeded to draw her out with such charm she soon was chatting freely, telling him how she had met Peter and then she somehow talked a lot about her husband. How lost he sometimes felt and how he needed to find something meaningful to do.

Professor Keller smiled. "I think I can be of some help here. I admit I first approached Peter with an eye for funding. I still need it, of course, a project of the scale I am thinking of needs a good deal of money, but I think your husband and I could set up something more in the line of a partnership. As it is, I have had to spend far too much time meeting potential backers, and it takes valuable time away from my research. Peter is a very appealing young man with good contacts. If he could be persuaded to take on that part, my workload would ease and I wouldn't have to spend so much time away from my project."

He looked earnestly at her. "I have already discussed this with him and he seems very interested. I wonder, what do you think, Mrs. Grey? Perhaps you could be persuaded to add your own considerable charm to the venture?"

Alison smiled back, completely entranced. "Of course. I love that Peter feels so invested in something. It's just what he needs."

The Professor insisted on taking her home though it turned out he didn't drive himself but had a driver attached to his black limousine. Even if the car was large, the backseat felt too small for the both of them and Alison suddenly felt shy after having talked so openly. In the confined space his presence seemed to loom larger and the lingering scent of cigar smoke mixed with his cologne, something spicy and expensive, made it seem much too intimate. Alison became acutely aware of how attractive he was. It was a disturbing and most unwelcome realisation, it made her nervous and she found herself babbling.

"You know, your English is excellent. You don't have any accent at all."

He smiled at her in a way that made her think he knew perfectly well why she suddenly fell back to inane small talk. "I have travelled a lot and for a long time."

"Don't you miss your home?"

His smile disappeared and his face grew closed. "I miss my home like an ache, but I never go back."

"Oh," Alison flinched. This was clearly a sensitive subject. "I am so sorry; I didn't mean to say something upsetting. It must be very lonely."

She put an uncertain hand on his sleeve as a peace offering and his face unfroze. "You have a kind heart, Mrs. Grey."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, soft and cool against her fingers. Alison blushed, it was an oddly sensual moment, her hand feeling hot against the smooth leather of his glove. She almost snatched her hand back and was very grateful when the driver stopped at her house before she said something stupid again. She thanked the Professor and hurried inside, refusing to acknowledge how his gesture had made her feel thrilled for no good reason whatsoever.

Alison had a strange dream that night. She was standing on a small hill, watching a landscape unlike anything she had ever seen. Great plains of grass rolled away from her toward high mountains under a vast night sky, but the colours were all wrong. The sky cast a strange amber glow over the scenery and a soft wind made the grass ripple red. She could see stars in unfamiliar constellations and two moons were rising after each other behind the mountains. It was beautiful; eerie but breathtaking. A soft wind touched her face and scents wholly unfamiliar filled her nostrils. She wasn't alone; Professor Keller was standing a few steps away, watching the grassy plains in front of them. No, watching two children running over it and Alison felt overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness and a sharp longing to join them, quickly quenched with resentment, strong feelings she realised wasn't her own but his.

"Where are we?" she asked, and he turned to her. His eyes seemed black in the strange light and she could see the unknown stars mirrored in them.

"You are not supposed to be here," he said. "It seems I have been a bit careless."

He stretched out a hand and touched her temple, his fingertips like ice against her skin. "Go home, Alison."

And she opened her eyes to the familiar darkness of her own bedroom, Peter's sleeping form beside her. She turned and put her arm around him, trying to shake the strange dream from her mind. She had an odd headache, radiating from where the Professor had touched her. Alison burrowed herself into the warmth of her husband's body and thought she was being absurd, the headache had, of course, been the source for the dream. When she woke up the next morning the pain was gone, but she still remembered the dream vividly every time she closed her eyes.

Over the next couple of weeks Professor Keller became a fixture in the Grey's life. Peter came to an agreement with him to take care of finding funders for the Keller process, and the Professor got into the habit of coming over several times every week. He discussed business with Peter and often stayed for dinner or a drink. He was always a very pleasant company even if Alison never felt completely at ease around him. She also found a history class and basked in the Professor's approval and Peter made plans of his own devices for the future.

"You see," he told Alison. "If the Keller machine is a success, and I'm sure of that, we will suddenly have a lot of people who have no criminal tendencies anymore. They will all be nice, well-adjusted people, but do you know what most of them won't have? Proper working skills that's what. If we are not careful, these people will find themselves homeless and without jobs. So I'm thinking of creating a sort of halfway home. Making sure they get a chance to study or learn some useful skill sets, so they can earn a living."

Alison looked at Peter's happy face and felt very proud of him. "I think it's a wonderful idea! But, haven't the Professor thought about all the consequences of his machine already?"

"It seems not, but he thought it was a great idea." Peter laughed. "You know scientist! They are just not practical; they only see the immediate outcome, not the aftermath."

On Alison's birthday the Professor gifted her with a necklace. He turned up unannounced just when they were leaving for her favourite restaurant. The necklace was deceptively simple, a string of oblong pearls made from green stone. But when Alison looked at them she could see other colours shimmer in unexpected glimpses, somewhat like an opal, but she had never seen opals in such a shade of dark green. She held it up to the light, watching the multi-coloured sparkles.

"It's beautiful, but strange too, almost like it is not of this world. I have seen nothing like it before. Thank you!"

"It's just something I picked up during my travels. It's merely a trinket, but I rather thought it would suit you."

He fastened it around her neck, the stones unexpectedly cold and heavy. His finger brushed lightly against her skin and emanated a tingle down Alison's spine that had little to do with the coolness of the necklace. Peter admired it, but the Professor looked critical.

"It would look better with another dress. The white one you wore last week, I think. You should change clothes."

Alison looked at Peter who said; "I think you look great, but I'm sure the Professor is right."

She ran upstairs to change and had to agree it looked better with the dress the Professor had suggested. Alison frowned into her mirror image and touched her necklace and felt oddly disturbed and a little upset even if she couldn't pinpoint the reason for it. Professor Keller looked very satisfied when she re-emerged and then excused himself though Peter and Alison asked him to come with them.

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of intruding. I came here only to wish Alison a happy birthday. Yes, I'm quite sure you should go alone."

It wasn't the last time Alison did something the Professor wanted. More and more often he asked for things, small, unimportant things, and she complied. He always sounded so plausible and his recommendations were always good. But she became more and more disturbed by the fact both she and Peter always ended up doing exactly what the Professor wanted. She mentioned it to Peter, but he only said she was being silly.

"Well, if he is right, why shouldn't we do what he says? I guess it's because he hasn't any family of his own to give advice to and he only means well."

"If it had been your father who meddled into your life like that, you would do the opposite of what he said and you know it."

Peter just laughed and called her a goose, but Alison couldn't let go of the feeling it wasn't quite right. And then there was another thing, something she hesitated to tell Peter. She wasn't even sure there was anything to tell, most of the time she felt it was all in her own imagination. But she had a growing feeling the Professor had an interest in her which was far from honourable. She couldn't really tell why, he wasn't openly flirting with her and he never tried to be alone with her, but there was something in his behaviour that increasingly alarmed her.

Still, perhaps it was all just in her own mind. She felt ashamed over it, but she knew she found the Professor fascinating, even if she didn't want to be attracted to him. In the end she decided to minimise her contact with him as much as she could, starting with going away to visit her sister. She was sure some time away from London would clear her head and when she came back she would make sure to see as little of the Professor as possible.


	3. Little Triggers

**Warnings for this chapter; slight violence.**

 _Little triggers in your grip_

Alison's week with her sister grew into ten days before she returned home. She had a wonderful time catching up with Janice and playing with her niece and nephew, but when she finally sat on the train home, she could only think of how much she looked forward to see Peter again. Most of all she longed to spend the evening alone with him. Eating something nice and catching up and then, most definitely, returning to bed early for some more catching up of the more intimate sort.

But to her surprise, Peter had made other plans. He was going to some kind of important affair with the Professor. Alison swallowed her disappointment. She hadn't actually told Peter she wanted a quiet evening alone with him, she had just taken it for granted. Now she felt foolish for not having told him of her wishes.

"No matter. We can do it tomorrow. I don't mind being alone tonight, I'm quite tired after all and tomorrow we can make up for it."

Peter stared at her. "But you have to come too, now when you are home again. The Professor expects you."

Alison had, to her relief, thought very little of the Professor while she was away. Now was as good time as any to start staying out of his way. And she really was too tired for a party tonight.

"I don't see why. He'll just talk with you all evening- he always does. I don't know anyone there and I will end up standing in a corner and smile to hide how bored I am. I can't see any point of me going and I don't feel that well either."

"But the Professor wants you," Peter said stubbornly

They started at each other and Alison realised they were somehow heading into an argument. Peter clearly wasn't going to budge and it felt like such an unnecessary thing to fall out over so she found herself changing her mind. What was a few hours anyway? It wouldn't be much fun, but it would be over soon. To show she had already forgiven Peter for nagging her, she put particular care into her appearance, wanting to look as beautiful as possible for him. She also picked her favourite necklace, one he had given her. But Peter didn't seem particularly happy over her choice.

"I think you should wear the necklace the Professor gave to you. You never do."

Alison touched her necklace as if to protect it. "I took this one because you gave it to me on our first anniversary and I love it. I thought you would like it. Don't you want me to wear it?"

Her voice caught a little and Peter shook his head as if to clear it.

"Of course, darling. What was I thinking? You look perfect!"

But there was still an odd strain between them and they hardly spoke on the way to the party. The Professor greeted her somewhat perfunctory and Alison thought he glanced at her neck, looking none too pleased. Then he whisked Peter away, as predicted, and she had to amuse herself. It turned out exactly as she had thought. She knew very few people, and feeling bored and somewhat sulky for being made to go, she drank more than she usually did. Instead of nursing her drinks, Alison drank several in quick order and after a visit to the bathroom she realised she was more unsteady on her feet than she was comfortable with. When she came out she stumbled and would have fallen on her high heels if the Professor had not appeared in time to catch her.

He held her until she had regained her balance, before he led her back. "No more drinks for you, young lady."

Though he sounded humorous enough, there was a tinge of something else in his voice and Alison made her way back feeling irritated. In the bathroom she had decided she would keep to water for the rest of the evening, but now she detached herself from the Professor and accepted another drink when it was offered to her. Alison met his eyes across the room and with some defiance at his frown, took a sip just to show him she did what she pleased.

Peter was nowhere to be seen and Alison went out on the balcony to look for him. No one was out there, but the cool air was soothing and she decided to stay for a moment. There was a small table there and she put down her drink and leaned against the wall with closed eyes. She really didn't want to drink more and felt rather foolish for taking the last one. There had been too many drinks already and perhaps it wasn't so peculiar the Professor had noticed it as well. Now, she decided, she would stay on the balcony for a few minutes until she felt more steady and then she would find Peter and leave. Her thoughts ended abruptly when someone spoke to her. Alison's eyes flew up and saw Professor Keller standing before her, much too close for comfort.

"I'm not best pleased with you, Alison. That was hardly a dignified display."

"Perhaps not. But it isn't actually your problem, you know. Maybe for Peter, but definitely not for you."

"You will not speak to me in this manner."

The Professor's voice, usually so amiable, turned into steel all at once and Alison felt an uncomfortable frisson down her back. But the alcohol made her foolishly bold.

"Oh, can't you just go away!"

He didn't answer her, but when Alison moved to get past him, he suddenly slapped her. It was not a hard slap, but it stung and her head flew back and smacked into the wall. She should have screamed then and made a fuss even if people would say it was because she was drunk. Alison should have done something, but she was so surprised she just gasped.

"From now on you do as you are told." The Professor sounded very calm, as if he hadn't just hit her.

"How dare you!"

He just shrugged. "You are tired and a bit upset. We will talk about it tomorrow."

"No, we will not. I never want to see you again!"

The Professor gave her an indulgent smile and Alison suddenly felt like she was nothing more than a headstrong child who was refusing a sensible request. Before she had time to say anything else he leaned in and kissed her. It was a brief kiss, and she didn't have time to react before he let her go and Alison was left breathless with an impression of cool lips and the taste of cigars. He touched her cheek where he had hit her, caressing it softly

"As I said; we will talk about it tomorrow."

He left her and Alison sat down, she felt a little shocked and her legs had started to shake. She tried to collect her thoughts, but the alcohol made her thinking fuzzy. And she wanted to cry, and she wanted to go home, but she didn't move until Peter found her and took her away.

"Did the Professor tell you to take me home?"

"Yes, he told me you were looking tired. And you do, are you sure you aren't coming down with something? I should have listened to you when you said you felt under the weather."

"Just too many drinks." Alison said, but she didn't mention what happened on the balcony. She wanted to, but not now, not when she was still drunk. And Peter wasn't sober either, so she thought it would be better to wait until the morning.


	4. You Belong To Me

**Warnings for this chapter; mind games, implied dubious consent.**

 _You've been warned_  
 _You're going to get torn_

Alison had a hangover the next day. Not a truly bad one, but she used it as an excuse to stay in bed. Peter, somewhat guilt struck, plied her with tea, but apart from that he left her alone. Now, in broad daylight, the events on the balcony seemed so improbable she almost felt it couldn't have happened. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Respectable professors might, possibly, kiss other people, but they didn't go around slapping them. The Professor must have been drunk as well, that was the only explanation she could come up with, even if he hadn't seemed inebriated. He must be as mortified as Alison today and it would undoubtedly never happen again. The more she thought about it, the more she felt she shouldn't say anything about it to Peter. But there was one thing; she could explain away the kiss as something unguarded, provoked by too much to drink, if the Professor hadn't hit her. Try as she might she couldn't explain that and she knew she had to tell Peter about it. But she felt more and more reluctant to talk about it and every time he came to check on her she decided to delay it a bit longer.

In the early afternoon Peter coaxed her downstairs and fed her an omelette. He looked fresh-faced and was dressed for going out, having made an appointment with the Professor.

"But only if you feel it's all right," he told her. "If you don't feel well, I'll stay with you, of course."

Alison, who would rather not be alone, almost said so when it occurred to her that if Peter was going off with Professor Keller, then he wouldn't come here. If Peter stayed home, then it was quite likely that he would drop by during the evening and she really didn't want to see him. So she assured Peter she felt better, and that she planned to have a nice long bath and watch something on TV before an early bed.

And still she didn't tell him of what had happened on the balcony. Peter seemed so happy and she hated to spoil his evening. She had to tell him, but she would wait a little longer. Tomorrow would be good when she had slept away the last lingering traces of the hangover.

After the bath Alison felt a lot better, and she decided to go down to the kitchen to warm some milk with honey. It was a childhood remedy her mother had always insisted on after a nightmare to calm frazzled nerves. She was still tying the belt of her dressing gown when she heard the front door open. Smiling, she ran down the stairs, thinking Peter had decided to stay home with her, after all. But the person she met in the hallway was not her husband but the Professor who was removing his overcoat as if he had just stepped inside his own house.

Alison's smile froze. "How did you get in here? Where is Peter?"

"With a key, of course. Peter was very understanding when I had to ask him to go alone tonight."

"How can you have a key? This is my home, you are not welcome!"

He smiled quite kindly. "My dear, I have a key because I asked Peter to give me one."

For a moment or two the surprise made Alison unable to speak. When she found her voice again it quivered more than she liked. "He never told me. When did this happen?"

The Professor shrugged. "Oh, a week ago, or so."

"It can't be true, Peter would have told me. He would! Give it back!"

She held out her hand, but the Professor just tossed the key into the air and caught it, his black-gloved hand closing around it tightly, before he pocketed it.

"No. We have things to discuss."

"I don't want to talk with you!"

Alison marched past the Professor to show him out, but before she could open the door, he grabbed her wrist and forced her to an abrupt stop. He was unexpectedly strong, she tried to yank away her arm, but his grip just hardened, making her wince in pain. He pulled her closer to him and without her usual high heels, Alison found she had to look up at him. Clad only in a thin dressing gown she felt vulnerable, and her anger was abruptly washed away in a wave of real fear. Until he had touched her, Alison had felt safe in her home, the house she had made her own and where she belonged. Now she realised they were alone there, and no one knew the Professor was there. He had already proved to be a man capable of behaving a way she had no idea how to handle. Yesterday she hadn't been afraid because there had been so many people around, but now she was.

"Please leave. You have no right to be here."

"Rights are for those who take them." The Professor spoke in a low voice, close to her ear, making Alison shiver. "You, you are all like children here, unformed and thoughtless. You and your husband play with your shiny toys, but you have no purpose in life, no direction. You need someone who takes care of you. Someone to tell you what you should do."

"That is not true."

"But it is and you know it. Before I came, your existence were useless."

Alison wanted to contradict him, but when she reached for something to say, her mind was blank. What had she, truly, done with her life? Instead she made another effort to break away from him though her struggle didn't seem to have any effect at all.

"You hit me yesterday. And you are hurting me now." Her voice was very small now.

"And you don't like being hurt, do you? Pity, pain can be very educational. And not without pleasure, for all involved."

He let go of her, his hand slid around her waist instead and then pressed into the small of her back, forcing her closer to him. His other hand tilted up her chin so she couldn't look away.

"Don't hit me again," Alison whispered. To her shame she was almost crying, and she blinked hard to stop the tears. "Please."

"Of course not," the Professor's voice was warm now, soothing, and some of Alison's fear subsided. "Because you will not give me any more reason for it. You are going to be a very good girl now, won't you? So, there's, no need for crying. See, I'm not hurting you anymore, am I?"

Alison shook her head, and he smiled again. "I gather you didn't tell Peter anything about our little encounter yesterday. Tell me, why not?"

"I- I don't really know."

"I will tell you why. Because you already know Peter won't believe you."

"Of course he will."

"Are you sure about that? I don't think so. Peter trusts me, you see. I'm his friend; I have his best interests at heart. Why would he believe you when he already knows you were drunk yesterday?"

Alison wanted to protest, she had never even considered that Peter wouldn't believe her, but now she felt doubtful, all the same.

"And even if he believed you, what would happen then? What would it do to him? He would be very upset, wouldn't he?"

"Yes."

"I have been good for him. You know how lost he felt before I came here. I have given him the purpose he has been longing after for a long time. Can you deny that?"

What he said was true, Peter would be devastated if he knew, which truly was the reason she had held off from telling him.

"No, I can't."

"And you love him very much. You don't want to make him unhappy. So you won't tell him."

The words slid into her mind, like snakes, twisting and turning and Alison found it difficult to collect her thoughts. While he spoke the hand on her back had gently pushed her closer to him and though he let go of her chin, she could not make herself look away. He had so very strange eyes, now they seemed to darken and it felt that by just meeting his gaze, she lost all hope of thinking clearly. She didn't want to hurt Peter, and that was all she would accomplish by telling him. Yes, better to not say anything about it. It wasn't important enough to make Peter feel miserable.

And all while the Professor told her all these things his hands moved over her body, slithering over the silk of her dressing gown. Slow, languid movements that Alison didn't even notice at first. Now she did, and she twisted in his arms to escape the caress.

"I won't tell Peter, but please, stop touching me. It's not right."

He laughed. "As if I care about your petty moral codes. It feels good, doesn't it?"

Alison didn't want to answer. It felt good, more than good, really, but she didn't want to tell him. Her heart was beating very hard, but she couldn't tell if it was fear or excitement, or a bit of both.

Eventually Alison nodded. If she agreed, perhaps he would be satisfied and leave her alone.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "You will call me Master. Now give me a proper answer."

It took her two tries to form the words, they felt uncomfortable and unwilling in her mouth.

"Yes, Master."

A look of deep satisfaction flickered over his features and then he gently cupped the back of her head and kissed her. A slow, lingering kiss this time. Like the day before his lips were cool, and coolness invaded her mouth along with the taste of cigars. Before she knew it she answered the kiss and when the Professor released her, she was breathless and flustered.

"Listen to me, Alison. It is all so very simple. Obey me and everything will be well. As long as you do as I say, you will have nothing to worry about. Submit to my commands and I will take care of you. But if you are disobedient, you will be punished."

Then he finally let go of her, only to reach out his hand to her. "Comply and you will have nothing to be afraid of."

Alison put her hand in his, it looked very white against the black leather and allowed him to lead her into the library. But though this made her feel oddly exalted, deep down she was more scared than she had ever been before in her life.


	5. After the Fall

**Warnings for this chapter; mind control, implied dubious consent, mental dominance.**

 _She lies in his arms and without any qualms_  
 _Revels in shallow delights_  
 _She seems brittle and small, it don't sound like her at all_

Peter never told Alison he had given a key to Professor Keller and Alison never told him she knew. She didn't care about it anymore, she was busy spending her time waiting for the Professor to come to her. It was like she was living in a dream, sometimes she briefly acknowledged she didn't seem to care about anything else anymore, but then she shrugged it off. Alison felt happy, and the Professor made her feel so good. It was unlike anything she had experienced before with Peter, or any earlier boyfriend. She felt everything was well and would continue to be so as long as she obeyed whatever demands he put on her. It had felt awkward to call him Master the first time he had insisted on it, now she thought nothing else could suit him. Following his orders made her feel better than she could ever have imagined, leaving a euphoria behind which lasted long after he had left her.

Somehow she failed to notice how she stopped seeing her friends, one by one. After a while she only left home when Maria was there to clean and she could be sure the Master wouldn't come, or if he told her to follow him or Peter to some kind of fund-raising events. She noticed, but didn't care, how Peter spent less and less time alone with her. He was busy the Master told her and it must be true if he said so. Perhaps she would have stayed in this strange dreamlike state forever if the Master hadn't gone away for a fortnight, taking Peter with him.

The first few days Alison fretted and longed, feeling at loss without directions. But one morning she woke up with a sudden sense of freedom, feeling like she was wide awake after a very long sleep. She could do anything she wanted and found she had nothing planned. For the first time she realised how lonely she had become and she couldn't understand why. But the worst was how she had so blithely and without concern deceived Peter in the worst possible way. Why had she let the Professor persuade her to something like this when she didn't love him or even liked him? It must have been a bizarre infatuation which had now run its course and she felt deeply ashamed over herself.

She missed Peter a lot. Now, when he wasn't at home at all, she realised how little she had seen of him lately. All the things they used to do together, long walks, concerts, art exhibitions, spending evenings home in front of the television, were all things they didn't do anymore. And they had stopped sleeping with each other. That part of their relationship had always been easy and fun, but now she couldn't even recall the last time they had made love. When he was home again, Alison thought, she would break it off with the Professor and then she would focus on making her relationship with Peter work better again.

When Peter came home he seemed changed though she couldn't tell how. He was his usual cheerful self and perhaps it was just Alison's imagination playing tricks with her. They hugged each other hard and everything felt just right. Alison had forgotten how right it felt to stand like this, Peter's familiar arms around her and his scent and warmth enfolding her. She had forgotten how happy it made her, and it strengthened even further the decision to not see the Professor again.

But when she told the Master she wanted to end it, he laughed.

"Did you really think you had anything to say in this matter? It stops when I say so. You will do what you are told."

"You can't make me."

"Yes, I can. And if you fail to please me, I can do several very unpleasant things to you, don't think for a moment I wouldn't. In fact, I would enjoy it very much, but instead I believe it will be enough for you to know I will tell Peter exactly what has been going on behind his back if you decide to be contrary. I am sure you don't want to lose him and you will if he learns about this."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

If she had hoped to provoke him, she didn't succeed, he remained unruffled. "Indeed I do. Don't look so astonished, did you think I was above such things? You should have learned by now I don't fit into your idea of a gentleman."

Alison felt both bewildered and confused. "I don't understand."

The Master laughed again

"Of course you don't and I find your naivete most charming. You aren't equipped to fathom how anyone can be deliberately cruel to such a lovely creature as yourself."

He smiled as if to take the edge of his words. "Don't look so distressed, my dear. Come here, you know I can make you feel better."

Alison followed him to the door when he left, and when she turned away from it she suddenly saw a woman looking at her. A familiar woman with brown hair and blue eyes, who smiled in a very unsettling way, making Alison hurt inside. She frowned, trying to figure out who this person was, but not until the smiling woman frowned back did she realise she was looking at her own image in the hall mirror. Slowly she went closer, touching the glass, feeling dull and empty inside and she couldn't understand why. The smile slowly slipped away as she tried to think clearly, her memories of the previous hours inexplicably elusive

The Master, she had told him she didn't want to see him again, but he had made her see the error of her ways. Alison frowned again. No, that wasn't quite right. Her mind felt like something was blocking her thoughts, as if a soft wedge had been driven inside her head like a barrier. Tentatively she tried to press imaginary hands against it, making her stomach clench in fluttering panic. She shouldn't do it, he wouldn't like it, he would be angry, but she tried again anyway, even if it made her head hurt. It felt like every time she pushed, she could think a bit clearer, and she determinedly continued, leaning both hands on the mirror and staring into her own eyes as if her mirror image could help.

And then she was herself again, just like that, as if a balloon had popped. Exhausted and with a blinding headache Alison sat down on a chair. Whatever it was the Master had done to her head, it had made her feel good, now her mind was her own again and it hurt. And with it came the realisation how neatly she had been cornered into a trap she had no idea how to get out of.

If the earlier weeks had felt like a dream, now her life became a nightmare. Not because anything had changed in how the Master treated her. When he came, he enthralled her as before, making everything feel wonderful and right. In a way Alison longed for it, to forget how miserable she was for a little while, but the enchantment didn't linger anymore, she didn't let it. Every time he left, she pushed against those feelings of happiness, reminding herself that no matter how good he could make her feel, this was something forced upon her. She got better and better at it, escaping the bonds he laid upon her thoughts quicker and without tiring herself as much. But she could not find a way to free herself completely from the Master, apart from the one she didn't want; to confess to Peter.

Gradually Alison grew more and more afraid of the Master, becoming convinced the urbane and polite professor he presented was just a masque. Underneath lurked something so different that Alison couldn't even begin to grasp it. She only knew she would do anything to not be made to see who he really was, when just a glimpse of it had terrified her. And she became convinced she had only been given a respite, in the end he would hurt her, he was only waiting for the right moment. He was playing a game with her where only he knew the rules, but she would still be punished if she made a mistake. The Master was right, she didn't understand why anyone would purposefully make someone else as miserable as he made her. But she still knew it was true, her reluctance and fear excited him, and her realisation of it only served to make her even more scared of him.

Isolated and alone she had no one she could talk with about her situation. The things she couldn't say to Peter felt like an invisible wall between them, built higher and higher of silence. Her friends would never understand and neither would Janice. She still phoned her sister more and more often, but could not, dared not, tell her what was really going on in her life. But Janice quickly understood something was wrong, her worry more and more pronounced for every call. Alison said she and Peter were going through a rough patch, it was true; after all, it was just that Peter didn't know it.

"You have too much time on your hands," Janice said. "No wonder you mope. You should start a family; I haven't had time for any brooding since the little monsters arrived."

And she went on telling Alison what her niece and nephew did and about the normal, happy life she lived far away from London. In her life there were no menacing men who took control over your existence and shaped it after their own devices. Alison listened and had to cover the microphone with a hand so Janice wouldn't hear how hard she was crying.

Peter worked more and more and they still didn't have sex. He said he was too tired and Alison didn't press the issue. She didn't feel like her body was her own anymore and thought Peter would notice something was amiss if he touched her. She lost weight and started to sleep badly, haunted by dreams filled with the Master's voice. It was then she realised Peter's sleep was disturbed as well. He dreamt nightmares that made him cry, but when she asked, he claimed not to remember any of them, even if she woke him in the middle of a scream. Perhaps he was telling the truth, but Alison lay awake at night, listening to his whimpers and felt more and more worried.

"You work too hard," she told him. "Slow down and rest more. And you need to spend more time with me."

But Peter just grinned and told her not to worry. "It will slow down soon, and then we will take a nice long vacation, just you and me. We'll go anywhere you want!"

Alison smiled and agreed, but she wondered if they would be allowed to go. The situation became more and more unbearable and she had almost decided to tell Peter, even though she knew it would devastate him. Anything would be better than living like this, but before she had time to collect enough courage for the revelation, something happened to change everything.


	6. You Tripped At Every Step

**Warnings for this chapter; mind control, implied dubious consent, mental dominance.**

 _Before you start to cry_

 _Don't ever leave me_

 _As you start to lose your grip_

 _You will stumble as you slip_

It was an evening not that different from many other evenings. Peter came home late, and the Professor was with him. He gave Alison a glance and dismissed her.

"You are tired, my dear. Go to bed."

Alison felt tired enough when the Professor said so, but she automatically pushed against his will as soon as she was alone. By the time she had undressed and gone to bed, her mind was clear and she was wide awake. Lying in the darkness, she listened after sounds downstairs. A creeping worry had started to grow inside her and as she lay in the silence, she felt more and more alarmed. She didn't know why, this had all happened before after all. The only thing they would do was to talk business, things she had no interest in under any circumstances. Alison could easily picture them sitting in the library with drinks in their hands. The Professor would smoke and talk and Peter would mostly listen, and there was no cause to worry. But Alison couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong and in the end she got out of bed and went downstairs. She walked very quietly, she would just have a quick peek to make sure everything was all right and then go back to bed without them ever knowing.

The house was so dark and silent, she first thought they had left without her noticing, but then she saw a dim light from the library. The door was partially open, and she stopped in the shadows outside and looked inside the room. Only one lamp was lit on a sideboard, making the room into a dark cavern, but the light still lit up the two persons in there. Alison saw the Master sitting in an armchair, much as she had imagined it. There was even a drink on the small table beside him, and one of his cigars was slowly burning itself to cinders on the ashtray. But Peter was kneeling in front of him and her heart seemed to stop beating as she fully took in the scene before her. What she saw was past Alison's wildest imagination, but there was still a part of her that was not surprised at all. There had been so much silence between her and Peter and she ought to have realised it wasn't only she who wasn't speaking to him. Peter had stopped talking to her too, and she had failed to understand he had something to hide as well.

The Master said something in such a low voice she couldn't make out what he was saying, but she caught Peter's indrawn breath, it almost sounded like a sob. The Master leaned forward and kissed him, a black-gloved hand tangled in Peter's blond hair. Alison's face felt stiff from shock, and her heart constricted painfully, before it started to beat faster. Her blood pounded in her ears so loudly she wondered why the men before her couldn't hear it. But they seemed to focus only on each other and she could watch them undisturbed. What happened there wasn't something new, she didn't see uncharted territory unfold before her, but something that had clearly happened many times before this night.

Alison watched them and she knew how it all felt for Peter because she had kneeled like that too. The carpet underneath one's knees, she knew how it felt, so soft and thick it wasn't painful to crouch down like that. Leather encased fingers caressing one's skin, a promise in them of thrills yet to come, the warm excitement that shot through one's body and the overwhelming need to please. The Master's eyes that seemed to look inside your mind, knowing how much one longed. How a hand moved through one's hair, before closing, and the head tugged back, not uncomfortable but never without the threat of pain. And those cool kisses that demanded complete surrender even if they were gentle.

She pressed a hand against her mouth to stop herself from making any sound, but otherwise she stood perfectly still. Alison couldn't move, couldn't stop watching, though she knew she had to leave before the Master realised she was there. But where could she go? She was only dressed in her nightgown, so to walk out of the house was impossible. But it felt equally impossible to go back to her bedroom. There was nothing to go back to, but there was nothing to go forward to either. So she stayed where she was, frozen in place and perhaps she wasn't completely silent after all because the Master suddenly raised his head. He looked straight at her as if he could see her standing there in the dark.

"Come in, Alison, come in and join us."

Alison hesitantly stepped inside the library; she would rather have run away, but she didn't dare to disobey. Peter scrambled to his feet; he looked dazed, the same look she had caught on her own face in the mirror at times. It was quickly replaced with guilt and shame when he saw her and everything hurt inside Alison again. There were so much they needed to talk about, but not here and now with the Master's eyes on them. But she took Peter's hand in hers, holding tight and he squeezed back and the eagerness in which his hand met hers gave her a little comfort. They stood together, side by side in front of the Master and it struck her how wrong it was they should stand there like naughty children and not adults in their own home. The Master leaned back in his armchair, looked them over and noticed their clasped hands, which made him raise an eyebrow and smile faintly.

"Well, well, this was somewhat unexpected. But why not? I have felt a bit bored lately."

He sounded quite amiable, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes and Alison could feel Peter shudder. She took a step closer to him and Peter glanced at her, trying, but failing to smile.

The Master continued. "I have told you both that I expect you to obey me or you will be punished. Your wife, Peter, seems to find this very simple concept difficult to grasp. I have been lenient and have let her get away with a warning before, but it's clear to me she needs a more severe lesson. I could do something about it, but I think if you were to discipline her, it would have a much better effect. Go on, you know what I want you to do."

Peter looked startled, but then, to Alison's horror, the dazed look returned. She tried to pull away, but his hand tightened around hers as he turned to her, raising an arm. She involuntarily closed her eyes, but the expected blow never came. When she looked up again, she saw Peter looking like himself again.

"I can't hit Alison."

"Not even if I order you?" The Master sounded more interested than angry, but Peter flinched. Once again several feelings flickered over his features, but then he shook his head.

"No. I can't."

For a moment or two the Master pondered the answer. "I see. We all have our limits, but I had started to wonder where yours were, my dear Peter. Now we have reached them. Boundaries can always be stretched, though, but not tonight. You can leave us."

Peter hesitated a fraction of a second and gave Alison an anguished look.

"Don't go," she cried, but he gingerly detached his hand from hers and left the room, closing the door softly. The Master beckoned to Alison.

"Come here. Kneel for me."

Alison obeyed him with a mouth dry from fearful apprehension. The Master slowly removed his gloves and somehow the simple gesture seemed more threatening than any overt show of brutality.

"Your waywardness is somewhat amusing, but I really don't have time for it at the moment."

Then he leaned forward and placed his fingertips against Alison's temples. His fingers felt cool, too cool against her skin and his voice lowered to a soft purr.

"Look into my eyes and see a little of what I can see. You are nothing. You have no significance in the great scheme of things and the only value you have is what I deign to give you. You should be grateful for my attention, little girl."

Helplessly she met his eyes, caught by the intensity in his gaze and for a moment Alison thought she could see stars reflected in them. A pressure started to mount in her head from his touch, an icy coldness filling her mind with darkness and despair. She was suddenly all alone, a paltry scrap of life in an eternity that didn't care and it hurt and it didn't stop. Then the Master laughed and time stood still or went on forever and she would never get away, falling deeper and deeper into a black void that seemed to go on forever.


	7. Possession

_My case is closed, my case is packed_  
 _I'll get out before the violence_  
 _Or the tears or the silence_

Falling in darkness Alison could hear Peter calling her name as if from a long distance. Slowly she realised she was curled up on the floor in the library, cold and shivering. Peter was kneeling beside her, shaking her gently.

"Alison, he is gone now. Come back to me, please!"

When she opened her eyes he was just a blur. He helped her sit up, and she leaned against him. Her body felt battered and bruised, but it was the sense of being so empty and wretched that made her tremble. Peter kissed her face, talking rapidly and a bit incoherently.

"Say you are not hurt. Please, Alison. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It is all my fault. Forgive me, I never wanted you to know. I never wanted you to be hurt. Say you forgive me."

For several minutes she continued to shake, unable to do anything else than to cling to Peter, kneeling together on the carpet. But as soon as she could she looked up so she could see the love and worry on his face. Perhaps there wasn't much meaning to her life, but if she was important to Peter, then there was something worth living for.

"I will be fine. Just let me rest a little."

She closed her eyes again and rested her head on his shoulder. It was tempting, very tempting, to let Peter think he was the only sinner here. She didn't have to tell him everything about her and the Master now, did she? But it would be the wrong thing to do, she couldn't go on lying. So when her body stopped trembling, she sat up straight.

"Peter, listen. I can't speak of forgiveness now, I don't know what I feel. But I know that any forgiveness must go both ways. Do you understand what I mean?"

He looked puzzled. "No."

"Don't you see? It's not just you, it's me too. He has used both of us. I'm sorry too."

Alison could see when comprehension dawned on him and knew what he felt, the hurt of betrayal paired with knowing he was not blameless either.

"Oh darling," he said at last, sounding as helpless as she felt.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you so much. You won't leave me?"

And Peter whispered "Never" and "I love you" over and over, but Alison could hear he was crying and then she cried as well.

They stumbled up the stairs, still holding each other and fell into bed like that. They didn't speak more, but they continued to cling together in a desperate need to feel safe and protected and eventually they fell asleep. But Alison woke up in the very early morning, her mind raising and as the room slowly filled with grey morning light, she went back to the night before in her thoughts, over and over again.

She ought to feel relieved now when the Professor had nothing to hold against them any more. Her and Peter's marriage may be in shambles because of him, but at least their first action had been to turn to each other. Surely that was a hopeful sign. Today they could change the lock on their door and sever all contacts with the Professor and they could start to find out if they would be able forgive each other. That was what Alison's rational mind told her, but it was now how she felt. It ought to be that easy, but she knew it wasn't. The strange influence the Master had on her, seemed even stronger when it concerned Peter. In this strange game he had played with them both, Peter had clearly been pulled in much deeper than she ever had. He had almost hit her last night, and it had cost him to stand up against the Master. She doubted he would have been able to keep his stance if the Master had decided to press him.

And the Master wouldn't let go now. He would find a way back and he would make Peter do what he wanted. He would talk, sounding so calm and reasonable and even humorous, and in the end Peter would agree with him. Perhaps she would too because they would be ensnared by that persuasive voice until they could see no other way out than total obedience. And then she would really lose Peter and be truly alone because then she was sure their marriage would be beyond salvation.

It wouldn't end there either, Alison was sure of that. Ever since they first got to know the Professor he had twisted their lives, subtle at first, but slowly and relentlessly turning it into a nightmare. He wouldn't stop now. It was clear he hadn't felt even the slightest pang of guilt for what he had done to them, rather the opposite, in fact. He had manipulated them for reasons she didn't understand and it felt like he had only waited for last night to happen. Like they belonged to him, to be used absolutely and though they had stood there together, she and Peter had not been able to truly throw off the power he had over them. And then there was the strange thing he had done to her head. Alison had no name for it, but she thought that if he hadn't stopped, then her mind would have shattered for good.

At the time the first uncertain sunbeams reached into their bedroom, Alison could only come up with one solution; to flee. She tried to tell herself that it was an extreme measure, absurd even; the Professor was only a man, slighter and shorter than Peter. It was not normal to feel this afraid, but it didn't matter what reason said. her heart told her the Master was dangerous and that they needed to get away as soon as they could..

Having reached that conclusio,n she slipped out of bed and packed two bags, moving as silently as she could. She didn't rouse Peter until she had phoned for a cab. He woke up with a start and took in her coat and the bags in alarm.

"You are leaving!"

She sat down beside him on the bed and put her arm around him. "No, we both are. Right now. We are going somewhere where he can't find us."

Her words made Peter look even more alarmed. "We can't leave!"

"Yes, we can. We have to go. Do you really think he will leave us alone now? If we stay, he will hurt us even worse, I know he will."

Feeling rather desperate she stood up and pulled up Peter with her. "Look, I have left a note for Maria and I will send a postcard to Janice from the train station. No one else needs to know."

But Peter dithered. He looked frightened and chilled and Alison was forced to play her last card.

"If you don't come with me, I will go anyway. I will leave you and you'll never see me again."

It was a bluff and Alison prayed that Peter wouldn't realise it. Whatever happened, she couldn't go without him. If he refused, she would stay, no matter what would happen to them. But to her relief Peter nodded and picked up the suitcases. They were a sorry sight, Alison thought in the cab. Peter still in yesterday's clothes, rumpled after being slept in, and she had forgotten to comb her hair. But it was still early morning and most people who moved about looked sleepy and not particularly observant.

Once, in school, she had been on a school trip to a little village in Cornwall. She hadn't enjoyed it and never been anywhere near the place again, so it was there she had decided that they should go. No one would know where they had gone, and she was sure that no one could figure it out.

She watched Peter as the train left the station. He he looked very unwell, pale and with dark circles underneath in his eyes. She looked down on her hands and realised she must have lost weight. Her wedding bands were loose, and she closed her fist, suddenly afraid the rings would slip away from her finger. And as they left London she could only think one thing over and over.

"Is this enough? Will this be enough?"


	8. I Want You

**Warnings for this chapter; character death.**

 _He tossed some tatty compliment your way_  
 _I want you_  
 _And you were fool enough to love it when he said_  
 _"I want you"_

 _I want you_  
 _The truth can't hurt you, it's just like the dark_  
 _It scares you witless_  
 _But in time you see things clear and stark_  
 _I want you_  
 _Go on and hurt me then we'll let it drop_  
 _I want you_  
 _I'm afraid I won't know where to stop_  
 _I want you_  
 _I'm not ashamed to say I cried for you_  
 _I want you_  
 _I want to know the things you did that we do too_  
 _I want you_  
 _I want to hear he pleases you more than I do_  
 _I want you_  
 _I might as well be useless for all it means to you_  
 _I want you_  
 _Did you call his name out as he held you down_  
 _I want you_

In season the little Cornish village would bustle with tourists, but now, in the last throes of winter, the locals presided mostly undisturbed. Alison and Peter booked themselves into a small hotel which was almost empty and no one seemed much interested in them. The first few days they explored the village and the surrounding nature, unable to say anything to each other more than polite phrases about the weather, or the quality of the food. Alison looked at Peter's well-known face and saw a stranger, someone she didn't know how to speak to anymore. They had to talk but neither of them seemed to know how to start.

At night they lay side by side in bed with a careful distance between them so they wouldn't accidently touch. Alison slept very little and when she did, she dreamt nightmares where she tried to hide from something and then woke up feeling alone and frightened. Peter slept badly too, but refused to talk about his dreams.

"Do you hear him in your sleep too?" she asked, but Peter shrugged.

"It's just dreams."

But Alison didn't quite think it was.

On one of their walks along the sea, Alison finally found the courage to ask what had been haunting her ever since she saw Peter and the Master in the library;

"Do you love him?"

Peter stopped abruptly though he took several moments to answer.

"Perhaps. I don't know." He looked earnestly at her. "Not like I love you."

They sat down on the cold sand and watched the grey sea. The waves rolled in, one after another and it was easier to look at them than at each other. After a long pause Peter continued, speaking in a slow and hesitant voice.

"But, yes, I think I loved him. Until that night in the library. Then, when I stood there, outside the door, I couldn't believe I had left you there alone with him. I wanted to go back, but I couldn't make myself. When he came out, and I saw you on the floor, I thought he had killed you. And he looked at me and told me it would have been kinder if I had obeyed him and hit you."

Peter's fingertips brushed against hers and she turned to look at him, but he was still staring at the water.

"Would it have been better for you if I had?"

"I think I would have preferred to be beaten black and blue, but not by you. Nothing could have been worse than you beating me."

He nodded, without turning his head. "But before he hurt you… I can't explain. It's not men, it's him. Only him, do you understand? It felt so fantastic to be with him, I felt like he gave me the world."

And Alison knew what had happened even if it was painful to acknowledge. She had always been supportive of Peter's need to do something worthwhile of his life, but she hadn't really been interested. The Professor had come and not only figured out what Peter longed for, he had given it to him as well. He had understood and Peter had thought that meant he cared.

"You thought he loved you too."

"Yes. Yes, I thought he did. Didn't you love him?"

In his voice she could hear a hope she had felt the same. Perhaps he thought it would feel easier if she had. Alison took his hand, holding it tightly when she answered.

"No, I never did. I don't know if that makes things better or not."

There was another long silence between them; the only thing that could be heard was the sea and the wind. Alison thought it was not easier just because they had both done the same thing. Mutual betrayal didn't make the treachery null and void. She didn't doubt Peter loved her and she knew she loved him still, but she wasn't sure they would be able to repair the damage done to them. But perhaps the fact they were finally talking was a first step to make it better. Without letting go of Peter's hand and speaking as slowly as he had, she told him how the Professor had made her feel; spellbound, longing and excited. And how scared she had been and still was. Alison spoke and watched Peter watching the sea until she was finished. Then he finally turned his head, looking so sad it broke her heart.

"We haven't done much to be proud over, have we?"

Still holding hands they returned to the hotel chilled and exhausted, but somehow they found they could talk with each other again. Their nightmares waned and sometimes the could even forget what had happened and everything felt perfectly normal between them. They even made love one night. It was uneasy and brittle, each touching the other as if they were afraid the touch would break something. Alison could feel the presence of the Master throughout it and she thought Peter did too, but it was also filled with love. Alison started to feel hopeful they would be able to mend it between them and Peter seemed happier.

But they couldn't stay in their haven forever. Their abrupt flight had left a lot unsettled and bills needed to be paid. They talked about it and they decided to go back to London just to make certain they could go away again for an even longer period. They both felt it would be safest to travel far, to leave England for as long as they felt they needed to be safe again. So Peter called his solicitor to set up a meeting, and they returned to London with a good deal of reluctance and a mutual agreement to not stay any longer than they absolutely needed. Peter went to his meeting and Alison stayed home to pack their bags and make sure Maria would continue to look after the house in their absence.

It felt very strange to return home. Alison walked through the rooms feeling they didn't belong to her anymore. The Master had been there and the memory of him had turned the house she had loved so much into a place that didn't feel like a home anymore. The only thing she wanted was to leave again, and she nervously packed clothes and the few belongings she felt she needed. But long before she had finished with her tasks there was a call from the solicitor, asking why Peter hadn't come to their meeting. Alison didn't know what to do, she was certain Peter wouldn't have done anything else than going straight to his meeting. She couldn't imagine where he could have gone otherwise, and she didn't dare to go out looking for him because he might come back any minute. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach and she couldn't keep the worry away. Something must have happened to him, but surely someone would have contacted her by now if there had been an accident?

And then the Master came. Silent as a cat he walked into the living room just as Alison had decided she was going to go out to look for Peter after all. The sight of him was a shock that rendered her unable to talk or move. But he didn't seem angry with her. Instead he took one of her hands in both of his and his voice was warm and concerned.

"Where have you been? I have been beside myself with worry. Your charming neighbour across the street was kind enough to call me when she saw you had returned and I came as soon as I could. I'm very glad to see you safely home again. But where is Peter?"

"I don't know where he is!"

Everything poured out of her. She couldn't help herself; despite it all she felt such a relief to tell the Professor. He would know what to do; he would take care of things. After listening he led her to a sofa and sat down with her.

"I'm sure there is no cause to worry. Peter probably met an old friend and forgot the time. He will turn up again any minute."

Alison tried to recapture her hand, reminding herself what had happened the last time they met.

"Peter wouldn't do that to me. He knows I would be worried."

But the Professor didn't let her go. Instead he made her look at him and when Alison tried to turn away he grasped her chin to hold her still.

"You always struggle so, little one. You have to agree with me your behaviour have been both reckless and inconsiderate. I ought to be very vexed with you, but seeing the state you are in, I suppose I will have to forgive you."

And Alison looked into his eyes and nodded and agreed. She tried to pull herself together, but he sounded so reasonable and she found herself soothed by his demeanour. Curled up beside him she didn't resist when he softly caressed her hair and spoke to her in a low voice. Alison relaxed and slipped into sleep with her head in his lap and she didn't wake up until several hours later when the doorbell rang. Outside two policemen were standing, and they had come to tell her that Peter was dead.


	9. Broken

**Warnings for this chapter; suicide attempt, brief violence.**

 _But if you leave me, then I am broken  
And if I'm broken, then only death remains_

Alison listened to the police officers, a strange numbness spreading inside her. Peter had walked out in front of a bus on a busy street and the bus hadn't even had time to brake until it was too late. She heard what they were saying, but she couldn't understand what it all meant. It simply couldn't be true, Peter couldn't be dead. When they asked her questions she could only stare at them in incomprehension, her brain refusing to cooperate. It was the Professor who stepped in and took charge, presenting himself as a family friend and providing information and Alison felt very grateful. He told the policemen Peter had been depressed and the toll it had taken on his and Alison's relationship and she nodded in agreement, swayed by the persuasive tone in the Professor's voice.

He went with her to identify Peter's body too, holding her arm when she nearly collapsed at the sight of her husband. And he stayed with her until Janice, white-faced and strained came with the first morning train. In the following days he was a constant presence and Alison's sister soon included him in any discussion about funeral arrangements. Alison herself could find no energy to do more than agree to any plans made. She couldn't shake off the numbness and sense of detachment, making her feel like she was living in a haze. It only slipped occasionally, but the only thing she felt then was guilt, not grief. She ought to have understood how bad it was for Peter, she ought to have done more to help him. She said as much to Janice who told her it was nonsense, she couldn't read minds and if Peter said nothing about his plans, how was she to know? Her doctor said the same and prescribed something to calm down her nerves. But Alison didn't take the tablets, she felt she deserved her guilt. If she failed Peter once again when she couldn't grieve properly, she should at least hold on to her shame of failing to feel the proper feelings.

She went through the funeral in the same state of mind and most of the memorial service. Her home filled with friends, offering their support, but Alison could barely make herself listen to them and mechanically murmured polite thank you's to whatever they said. Then the old lady next door sidled up to Alison to offer her condolences.

"It must be very hard for you, dear. I am sure your sister is such support for you and the nice Professor too. He was so very worried about you, I hope you didn't mind I phoned him as soon as I saw you stepping out of the cab. And as things turned out I'm glad I did, I would so have hated for you to be alone when you got the horrible news."

"Not at all," Alison murmured automatically. "Thank you."

But then she registered what she had heard and suddenly the fog she had lived in since Peter's death lifted and she could think clearly again. Too clearly. She had assumed the Professor had come at once, but then he would have arrived much earlier than he did. He had known they were back long before Peter had left for his meeting, hours before he came to her. Her thoughts swirled faster and in her mind she could see what must have happened. She could see Peter leaving their home and she could see the Professor's black car gliding up beside him. Peter in the car and the Professor talking, and Peter looking dazed just as he had that night in the library. There had been enough time for the Professor to talk for a long time. Telling Peter what to do and, oh how important that must have been, when. And she had been blind, blind and stupid. The police had told her Peter had been seen walking up and down the street where he had killed himself for at least half an hour before he died. When the Professor had comforted her and assured her Peter would be fine, Peter had still been alive, but the Professor had already known what would happen. He had calmed her fears and had watched her sleep and waited for the moment when her world would crash around her and he had known.

Alison's glass slipped from her hand, breaking in pieces at her feet. Some of the sharp splinters hit her legs, but she hardly felt it. The Professor was at her side at once, but she turned away, stumbling blindly into Janice's arms. Her sister led her away, taking her away to her bedroom. She helped Alison to remove the glass from her legs and put her to bed.

"It's been too much for you. I make sure people leave now and then I'll come back to you, darling."

"No" Alison said. "I want to be alone, Janice. Please, leave me alone for a little while. And tell the Professor to go as well, I only want my family here with tonight. Promise me you make him go!"

When her sister had left Alison sat up in bed. All fuzziness was gone from her mind, she felt wide awake now and she was completely certain she was right. The Professor had murdered Peter and she could tell no one. Who would believe her anyway, he had been with her when Peter died. If she accused him, people would believe she had gone mad from grief, they would feel sorry for her, but they would also think she was crazy. Expect the Professor who would do something horrible to her, which no one would ever believe either.

It was impossible to sit still, Alison paced her room in quick restless strides as if she could walk away from it all. And she really could walk away for real, right now. She could empty her jewellery box and leave at once. Slip away and truly disappear, leaving her whole life behind her. But what was the point fleeing now when Peter was gone? Build up a new life for what? For nothing and she thought she would forever look over her shoulder expecting the Professor to find her.

Alison stopped abruptly when she spotted the bottle of Valium on her nightstand, the bottle she had hardly touched. It occurred to her what an easy way out it could offer. If she took the tablets, all of them, she would die too. She wouldn't have to miss Peter and she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. A small voice inside told her she wasn't really rational, that Janice would be devastated and why didn't she sleep on it, but she pushed those thoughts away. Almost feverishly she filled a glass of water and set out to swallow the pills. She didn't know how long it would take before they started to have an effect, and she had not swallowed more than a dozen tablets when the Professor came into the room. Alison should have known that Janice would not be able to withstand his special form of persuasion if he wanted to stay in the house. He took one look at the pill bottle and ran up to her and yanked her to her feet, his face furious.

"Foolish girl!"

He dragged her to the bathroom, viciously forcing her mouth open and thrust his fingers down her throat. She tried to bite him, but gagged and threw up instead. He asked her how many tablets she had taken and when she didn't want to answer, he struck her face before he made her throw up again. Then Janice was there and the Professor ordered her to phone a doctor. It all went blurred after that. Alison cried and she could hear Janice saying she ought to go to a hospital and the Professor assuring her that a doctor at home would be enough because he had discovered what Alison had done in time. She was carried back to bed and there were more upset voices and eventually a doctor, but Alison didn't even care to try to listen or even talk. Eventually everyone left except Janice and Alison fell into sleep while her sister was sitting beside her holding her hand.

Alison woke up in her bed the next day, feeling as if someone had tried to turn her inside out. Her body ached and her throat felt raw. For a moment or two she couldn't remember why, but then memory flooded back. A movement made her turn her head and to her alarm she saw that Janice was gone. The Professor was there instead, smoking one of his cigars and watching her intently through the smoke.

"Ah, good. You are awake. I was hoping you would wake up when it was only you and me here."

His voice was pleasant and calm, but when he came to sit on the side of her bed, Alison shrank back from him. She remembered the fury he had shown when he had found her, she knew it had not been because he feared for her life, but true anger over her actions. Defiance was probably not her best stance now, but she couldn't keep the words inside her, they spilled out before she could stop herself.

"You killed Peter!"

He shook his head in concern.

"How can you say such a thing? Of course I didn't. You know I can't have, I was with you the whole time. You are just overwrought, which under the circumstances are quite understandable." A note of steel crept into his voice. "Your recent behaviour, however, cannot be tolerated."

He carefully folded down her comforter and Alison didn't dare to stop him. He looked down on her with a pleasant smile, sliding down the straps of her nightgown over her shoulders. His hand trailed over her chest lightly, coming to rest at the junction between body and shoulder on her left side. The smile deepened, became cruel and oddly expectant. His hand moved over her skin, caressed her face and then he put it over her mouth instead, pressing down hard.

"Don't make a sound."

Then he slowly pressed the glowing end of the cigar against her skin at the point his hand had been. Despite his warning Alison screamed, but the sound was muffled by his hand and her eyes filled with tears from the sudden pain. He placed the cigar on the bedstand and leaned down over her. His eyes were cold and deep and terribly ancient and Alison felt as if she was drowning in stars when she looked into them.

"You are not allowed to die. You will obey me and I forbid it. And if you don't, I will make sure everyone you care for will suffer." His thumb brushed over the burn mark and Alison winced. "This is nothing compared to what I will do to them if you try anything like this again. I'll start with your tiresome sister. Do you understand me?"

His hand slid down, resting at her throat instead. Alison nodded, and the hand tightened, making her choke slightly. "What did you say, my dear?"

"Yes, Master."

He smiled down at her, all affable again and covered her with the comforter.

"You are exhausted and you need to rest. Your sister is talking of taking you back home with her and I think it sounds like an excellent idea. They live in the countryside, don't they? The fresh air will certainly benefit you. I have some business travel to attend to soon; I will leave for China shortly and I like to know precisely where you are. You will go with your sister now and when I want you, I will send for you."

The Master rose, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he left. Alison curled up in her bed, another scream building inside her, but she buried her face in her pillow instead, forcing the scream to die. Now she was trapped again, and this time even more firmly than before, now there was no way out at all.


	10. Alison

_I know this world is killing you._

Professor Keller left for China and Alison went to stay with Janice and her family. She would have done so even if he hadn't told her to- it was a comfort to be with those who loved her. Alison played with the children and helped Janice around the house. And, at last, she could grieve over Peter, something she was grateful for, even if it was hard. There was a constant, gnawing misery inside her even when she managed to not think of him, interspersed with bouts of crying that made her feel like her heart was trying to burst. The only thing that seemed to ease the pain a little was walking. Long, long walks without aim because it was the constant motion, not the surrounding nature, which brought a little comfort. She thought about Peter and how much she missed him, but also on how he had died, which irrevocably made her think about Professor Keller too. Again and again she wondered over his actions and motivations. Alison found herself reaching for words like crazy and insane, but they didn't feel like truly encompassed him. He was so strange, so alien to her that he was beyond her scope of imagination.

Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't she who was crazy and the Professor nothing more the kind and caring man he seemed to be. She thought it would be so much more plausible if it was her own mind which had slowly broken apart. Perhaps she was really projecting her misery on an innocent man so she didn't have take responsibility for her own actions. But then she remembered the burn mark the Master's cigar had left on her body and she knew she wasn't delusional. It had healed into a pink and glossy scar, looking for all the world exactly what it was. And it would stay on her skin as an all too real reminder of what the Master could do if she stepped out of line again.

And what would he do to her when he came back again? She knew he hadn't forgotten about her because he wrote to her occasionally. They were short unremarkable letters, written in a neat and precise hand, always ending with a polite hope she was doing better. Alison read them and felt sick because she knew they were nothing but a part of the masque that was Professor Keller. Another little segment of the Master pretending to be normal and she burned the letters as if they had been filled with venom instead of bland politeness.

There was nothing left of the life she had once taken for granted, the life she was going to live with Peter. All she had ever wanted was to be with him and one day they would have a family, but he had wanted more from life. Peter had been a good man who had wanted to make a difference, and it was so very wrong that this wish to help had led him to Professor Keller and ultimately killed him. And he had left her alone to deal with a person she knew she couldn't handle. The Master had placed her in limbo, there was no way back and no way forward except for what he decided to do to her. And not only to her. He had threatened her family, and she had no reason to think he wouldn't hurt them too, eventually. The more she thought about it, the more certain Alison became that Janice wouldn't be safe from the Master regardless of what she did. And then there was her brother -in-law and her niece and nephew. She tried to tell herself the Master wouldn't stoop to hurt children, but she found she didn't trust that to be true.

Tense and frightened she started to think he would come for her without warning. His black car would stop outside Janice's house and he would destroy everything she cared for before it finally was her turn. Slowly Alison realised she didn't think there was any other way out for her than death. The thought ought to frighten her, but she felt curiously indifferent. She only wanted two things; to keep her family safe and to find out what had really happened to Peter the day he died.

She knew she was right in thinking the Master was behind it, but she felt she needed to hear him admit to it. Perhaps she would find some peace of mind in knowing for certain she had been right.

There was nowhere to escape to, but when the Professor wrote to say he was back, Alison realised there was one thing she could do. Once she had read that horses, given a chance, run back into burning stables because out in the wild the best way to survive a fire was to run straight through it to grounds that the fire had already left. She could do the same, she could choose to face the fire instead of waiting for it to reach here. The Master would not like it if she went to him before he told her to come, but he hadn't explicitly told her not to either. Perhaps it would be enough to direct his attention away from her family. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the only one she could think of and however illusory, it would at least allow her to pretend she was free to decide her own fate.

Alison left her sister's home an early morning before anyone was awake. She knew she would hurt Janice by not saying farewell and if she never returned, which seemed most likely, then her sister would never know what happened to her. But she couldn't tell the truth, the last thing Alison wanted was to give Janice anything that would make her think of the Professor. But it wasn't fair to leave like this and Alison's heart ached all the way to London.

She knew where the Professor lived as once or twice she and Peter had been invited there for a drink. He lived in a modern apartment, beautifully furnitured but totally lacking in personality; Alison had found it strange then, one would have thought that a charismatic person like the Professor would have a home that reflected his character. Now she thought it was another part of him keeping up appearance. It was not a home, but a stage set, the proper background for a respectable professor and scientist.

Not until she stood outside his door did Alison realise he may not be there. Perhaps he didn't even live there for real. She had been too preoccupied with holding on to her courage on her way there to think more than one step ahead. Now she felt an almost overwhelming need to turn back, and she took several minutes to collect herself enough to dare to knock. At first nothing happened, but then the door opened and the Professor was standing before her. Though he must be surprised to see her, he didn't show it, but merely opened the door wider to let her inside.

"Why Alison, what a pleasant surprise. Please, come in."

The Professor showed her to the living room which looked as sterile as the last time she had been there. He looked the same as well and Alison's terror mingled with an unwanted sense of relief. Somehow she couldn't help thinking that if she just allowed him to counsel her, then everything would be just fine.

"Please sit down."

But Alison remained standing. It might amuse him to play the courteous host, but she knew he must mislike her showing up like this and she would rather have it out before she lost her nerve completely.

"I need to know what really happened to Peter. I know you killed him, even if I can't prove it and I need to hear you admit to it. I want to know what you did to him that made him jump in front of that bus."

The Professor raised an eyebrow, but didn't look angry. If anything he seemed faintly amused by her outburst. "You have already had my answer, my dear. I was with you the whole time as you well know and I couldn't possible have anything to do with Peter's death."

"I don't believe you. I know what you are capable off and I know that you can do things no one else can do. And I'm so tired, I can't stand this anymore!"

The last sentence came out in a wail. The Professor watched her thoughtfully for a moment.

"Yes, I can see that," he said eventually. He sat down in an armchair and motioned to her to sit down as well and this time Alison obeyed him.

"You want to know, but you don't really understand what you ask of me. You are still mostly ignorant of who I am and what I can do. Now you want to open a door which can never be closed again. I could tell you, truthfully, what happened to Peter, but then there would be no turning back. But it doesn't have to be like that. You have been very diverting and I am not without mercy. If you leave now, I will let you. You only have to stand up and take a few steps and you will be free. Humans have such an extraordinary capacity of forgetting, make use of that and forget me and I will leave you alone. Go away, meet another man who can provide you with your peculiar notion of a proper lifestyle. I can even give your memory a nudge in the right direction as a farewell gift."

For a moment or two Alison couldn't speak. She had never expected the Master to give her an offer like this. He sounded sincere, he might even be truthful; she was free to go. But even if Alison could believe him, she knew it was still too late.

"I can't leave now. Please, tell me."

"You understand what it means? I won't let you go if I tell you."

Alison shuddered, but miraculously she could still hold her voice steady. "Yes, I understand. I don't care anymore."

He watched her with his peculiar eyes and Alison felt he could see inside her mind, sorting through her feelings as easily as if he had flipped through the pages of a book..

"Very well. You shall have your answers though you will undoubtedly wish you had chosen otherwise in the end."

"I just want to know for certain. Did you kill Peter?"

"Yes, Alison, I did."


	11. Man Out of Time

_To murder my love is crime  
But will you still love  
A man out of time?_

Alison had expected the Master's answer, but it still hit her like a blow. She had told herself she knew what he would say, but when spoken she realised she had hoped for him to deny it once more. Perhaps she could have believed him then, perhaps she could have allowed herself to think the Professor would take care of her and make everything better. She could have looked into his eyes and given in. Drown herself in his words and believed him. Now she leaned forward, hiding her face in her hands, while the Master continued to speak.

"It's not so easy as you may think to make someone do something they don't want. You have broken away from my influence often enough to know this, my dear. And even Peter came to that point once as I am sure you remember. It was not by my will alone Peter stepped out in front of that bus. We had a long talk about it, but we also made a little detour for a practical demonstration of the Keller machine. You never cared enough to to know how it works, did you? It shows you your greatest fear and makes them feel real. So real it can alter a man's personality for ever. Or drive him insane, and even kill him. Peter's worst fear was your death. It was not so hard to make him promise to do anything I wanted if it would save you. Especially after I described in detail what I would do to you if he defied me. Poor Peter, he wanted so badly to be a hero and save you. He desperately wanted to believe I wouldn't hurt you if he obeyed me."

"Why?" Alison asked without looking up, her voice muffled.

"Because it amused me."

His answer made her raise her head and stare at him in incomprehension. The Professor looked back at her with no pretence of guilt. If anything he looked interested as if he was curious of how she would react.

"You did all this to us because it was fun?"

"I'm stuck on this blighted planet, and even if I have certain long-ranging plans, I needed something to entertain myself with in the meantime. Both you and your husband proved to be useful in several aspects."

"But why kill Peter?"

The Master shrugged.

"I didn't need him anymore."

"But he loved you!"

"And that should matter to me? Did you think his feelings was reciprocated? He was just a tool to be used. It wasn't even a challenge, he became mine as easy as this."

The Master snapped his fingers to emphasise his words and Alison shuddered.

"Peter was weak. I had him where I wanted from the first time I saw him, long before you even knew who I was. It was almost too easy, and in the end he only bored me. But he was useful in making sure I had control over you. I wasn't going to let you slip away one more time"

"Me? But I'm not special in any way."

"I hadn't expected you to be, but then you took a little stroll in my memories, just like that. Surely you remember?"

"It was just a dream," Alison whispered.

"No, it was not. I hadn't expected anyone in this primitive place to have any psychic ability to speak of, and I admit I didn't bother with precautions. It was a surprise when someone as insignificant as you could have enough rough capacity to make a connection like that. And your mind is more resilient than most- you have always had a remarkable ability to shake off my influence."

"And what will happen now? Will you make me kill myself like you did to Peter?"

He smiled pleasantly at her.

"Not at all. It is what people will think happened, though. There will be enough credible witnesses who will see you jump from a bridge somewhere. Water is quite useful, isn't it- bodies aren't always found. So very, very sad; a young and beautiful widow deciding to follow her husband to the grave. I will be properly devastated, of course, but it won't have anything to do with me."

There was a brief pause while the Professor lit one of his cigars before he continued.

"You have proved to be far more interesting than I thought, and it has been very entertaining watching you struggle. You are like a butterfly in a jar, thinking you can reach freedom by crashing into the glass over and over. But by every hit, some of the beautiful colours on it's wings disappears. Do you know what happens to a butterfly if you touch its wings too many times and too much of the iridescence disappears?"

"It can't fly anymore."

"Exactly."

The Professor fell silent, still watching Alison with an air of curiosity as her mind seemed to go in several directions at once. She was still terrified, but there was an odd surge of warmth behind her eyes and Alison, who had never hated anyone in her whole life, realised it was hatred. She wanted to fly at him and scream and scratch and bite, however futile that would be. And she wanted to flee, run away as fast and far as she could, at the same she wanted to curl into a small ball and forget everything. She stood up abruptly, taking a few steps toward the Professor before her legs gave way and she tumbled to the floor. Bile rose in her throat and for a moment she thought she would be sick as the room swirled around her. Then she swallowed, and the world righted itself and she found herself on her hands and knees at the his feet. Alison stayed like that, too weary to move. It was hopeless anyway, she had got what she had said she wanted and now he would kill her. But the Professor didn't touch her and after a while he spoke again.

"I came to Earth because an old friend got exiled here. I hadn't planned to become a prisoner here as well. He would undoubtedly call it cosmic justice, I call it his infernal meddling. I plan to get back at him quite spectacularly."

It was such a weird little speech and Alison couldn't help but to sit back and look up at him.

"Why do you say things like that all the time?"

"Things like what?"

"Like you don't belong here."

He smiled again, a smile made terrible for looking so nice.

"The most logical conclusion would be that I don't, wouldn't it? Earth is not my home."

Somehow this failed to surprise her. Of course he didn't belong, how could he? He was so unlike anyone else she had ever met, so strange in ways she had never understood. To imagine he was something else than human was not difficult at all.

"What are you then?"

"I am a Time Lord and far superior to any human being."

His voice was full of pride and to Alison's eyes, he seemed to grow and stretch out in front of her despite remaining perfectly still. His presence seemed to unfold, growing stronger as if his words made him relax and let go of a facade.

"Professor Keller never existed, it was a mere ruse to achieve my goal. But you already know my name, I am the Master. And I will rule this planet of children or, if that fails, I will destroy you."

Alison felt a chill running down her spine at his words and she thought of Peter, who had been so coolly discarded.

"Are we so easy to kill?"

"What, do you feel I should care for your species? You humans live such brief lives. Why should it matter if you die sooner rather than later when your life is only a blink in the face of eternity?"

He leaned forward, cupping her chin so she had to look at him.

"Yes, I can see you do. I feel… a measure of appreciation for a select few. I have grown quite fond of you, for example. My friend the Doctor would like you very much, I think. Yes, I would say you are exactly what he would like to collect himself. Perhaps I will tell him about you and your husband one day. It will make him terribly upset he couldn't save you, he has such a hero complex."

The idea seemed to please the Master, and he released her and leaned back in his chair. Alison thought it was a strange friendship he described. And she thought he must have said what he had intended to tell her and now he would finally kill her.

"My relationship with the Doctor is much more complex than you can ever fathom," the Master said, as if she had spoken aloud. "And I have no intention to kill you yet. Why should I, now when I can finally do what I please to you?"

He rose and held out a hand for her. "Come."

Alison tried to obey, but her legs still refused to cooperate, her head spun again and in fear of falling she took his hand. She loathed to accept it, but she wouldn't have been able to stand without his support. He wrapped an arm around her in what she felt was a parody of an embrace and pulled her close. Alison capitulated and leaned her forehead against his shoulder until her legs could support her properly again. The Master spoke softly into her hair;

"Little girl, you are completely mine now, and you will get to know me very well before it ends for you."

He led her from the living room, through the apartment to a closed door he carefully unlocked. Inside was a small room, the only furniture an old-fashioned wardrobe at the opposite wall. It reminded Alison of a book she had read as a child. In it a girl had found a wardrobe in an empty room. When she had stepped inside she had found herself transported to another world, full of wonders and great adventures. The Master put his hand against the wood of the wardrobe and to Alison's surprise his expression was almost affectionate. Without knowing why she mimicked the gesture, finding to her shock how the surface felt warm and faintly vibrating under her palm.

"It's alive!" she exclaimed, and the Master looked at her with a glimmer of respect.

"Very perceptive. In a sense, yes, she is alive."

"What is it?"

"A TARDIS. My home if you want. My ship, certainly. At the moment, thanks to the Doctor, not fully functional, but it's only temporary, I'm sure. Soon I will be able to travel in space and time after my own wishes again. I can change events and let history take a new course."

He glanced at her. "I could even go back to the past and let Peter live. Perhaps I shall hold it out to you as a reward for exceptionally good behaviour."  
For all the lies he had told her, Alison believed him, however impossible it sounded. And hope bloomed inside her, as he must know it would, and it hurt. Hope was not her friend, but only another instrument for the Master to keep her where he wanted her. The Master opened the wardrobe which wasn't really a wardrobe and when Alison looked inside she found the interior opening up into something much larger than it ought to be. Truly a wardrobe of wonders, then, but not, she thought, for her. In a flash of clarity she understood what would happen to her. The Master would do horrible and cruel things to her, and she would cooperate because he had given her a little hope. And as any favoured toy he would take care of her too, to ensure she wouldn't break too soon. In the end she would turn to him for any comfort she could get, and if it happened to amuse him for the moment, he would be kind too. He would keep her alive until she started to bore him. Perhaps she should hope it would happen soon.

Alison looked up at the Master, who smiled at her again and motioned to her to step inside. Taking a deep breath, she obeyed.


	12. Epilogue: The Other End Of The Telescope

_I know it don't make a difference to you_  
 _But oh, it sure made a difference to me_

"Busy?"

The Brigadier turned up at the door to the Doctor's laboratory. The Doctor, who was elbow deep into a contraption sprouting several odd-looking appendages, and looked very industrious, raised his head and frowned.

"Not at all. Do I look busy?"

"Ah, good. You remember the time the Master posed as Keller?"

"The Keller machine?" Sarah Jane said, who had read up on the files.

"Right. And it's still gives me headaches, though it was years ago. Now I have a woman called Thomson here, claiming Professor Keller had something to do with the disappearance of her sister."

The Doctor emerged properly, looking interested.

"I thought that would catch your attention. Apparently her sister was called Alison Grey, and her husband was one of the Master's economical backers."

"I remember. But both she and her husband were dead by the time it all blew up and had been for months."

"Yes. A tragic business of a double suicide, but there were so many more immediate things to untangle, we never gave it much attention. But evidently Mrs. Thompson has insisted for years something was strange about it all. Eventually someone who knew a bit more about the whole affair got wind of it, and it ended up on my table."

The Doctor gave him a shrewd glance. "And you found something fishy."

The Brigadier nodded. "I did. I tell you after the interview. Perhaps you would like to come as well, Miss Smith? I'm sure Mrs. Thompson will appreciate a female presence."

Janice Thomson was a good-looking woman in her thirties, well dressed in a conservative style. She watched them enter without the usual apprehension people being confronted with the Brigadier looking formidable and the Doctor looking, well like the Doctor, often displayed. If anything, she looked defiant as if she was used to telling her tale and having it dismissed. Sarah Jane thought the Brigadier had been wrong, Mrs. Thomson needed no one to hold her hand. After a quick introduction, she plunged straight into her story, and it was clear she had told it many times.

It didn't take long time. According to her, the Greys had had a happy marriage and the death of Peter Grey had been a complete surprise. A few months later his wife had been seen jumping from a bridge, and her body had never been found.

When Mrs. Thomson had finished, she took out a photo from her bag and showed it to them. It depicted a smiling young couple, their arms wrapped around each other. The man was blond and handsome, his longish hair tangling into the brown curls which haloed the woman's face. Alison Grey had a lot of her sister about her, but in her, prettiness had took a step further into real beauty. Mrs. Thomson lightly touched her sister's face.

"Alison was a lovely person- they both were. I never understood what went wrong between them, but she was devastated when he died, and I know she still loved him. I guess it's already in your notes somewhere, but she had made a suicide attempt earlier, at Peter's funeral. So at first I really thought she had gone through with it, though I thought it was strange there was no note, or anything like that. She was very considerate. And then, when the story came out how Professor Keller had killed people, and done all sorts of nasty things, then I started to wonder if there was more to it."

"You had met him, hadn't you?" Sarah Jane asked. "You weren't suspicious of him before?"

"I liked him," Mrs. Thomson said slowly. "He was charming, and very attentive to Alison. In fact, I thought he cared for her a great deal.

She paused and blushed a little. "I even thought it would be a good thing. He seemed to stable, and I thought in time, it would be good for Alison to have someone who could take care of her. But I made the mistake to imply as much to her once, and she almost went hysteric."

Her blush deepened, though more out of anger this time, than embarrassment.

"My husband says they must have had an affair, and that is why Peter killed himself. I don't believe it! Alison loved Peter and she would never have done something like that. Never! But there was something going on. The Professor used to write to her, and she was always upset whenever a letter came. I know I don't have any proofs, but our parents died in an accident shortly after my marriage. I know how it feels to lose someone you love unexpectedly. And I know how Alison grieve. She grieved over Peter, but that wasn't all. I didn't figure out what it was until she was gone, but I think she was scared, and it only grow worse over time. It was like she was waiting for something terrible to happen. There was a letter only a few days before she disappeared, and I'm convinced that was the reason she left."

Mrs. Thomson's voice wavered for the first time."I know Alison probably isn't alive, anymore, even if she didn't kill herself. I think he did something horrible to her. All I want to know now is where her body is, so I can take her home."

The Doctor leaned forward and took her hand. "We will do our best, Mrs. Thomson, I promise."

After she had left, the Doctor turned to the Brigadier.

"She may be right, but it seems more likely the poor woman killed herself that night. So what is it you have found out which says otherwise?"

"Well, there were three witnesses who all claimed they saw Alison Grey jump from the bridge. Excellent witnesses, who, despite the darkness and distance, could describe her extremely well."

"Which real witnessed almost never are able to do. That's suspicious, indeed."

"I took the trouble of having them interviewed again. Two of them have only fuzzy recollections now, saying they are not sure of what they actually saw. The third states point blank he never saw anything that night and has no idea why he said he did. It all points to the Master and his mind-meddling, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"But why? Sarah Jane interrupted. "Why would the Master do that. What happened to her?"

"I think," the Doctor said with reluctance. "I think he took her with him."

"Why would he do that?"

"When you have a long life, and live it far away from your home, you get lonely."

The Doctor smiled at Sarah Jane and the Brig. "I fill the void with the company of good friends. The Master doesn't have friends, but he can feel the solitude as keenly as I do. I suspect Mrs. Grey had the bad luck to interest him more than people usually do, and he came to enjoy having her around."

"You think he actually liked her?"

"What? No, of course not. Well, perhaps, but more in the way you like a favourite toy. If she was still alive at the time of her presumed suicide, she probably isn't by now. Few people survive the Master for long. He would keep her until she stopped amusing him, and then he would kill her without compunctions."

Back in the laboratory, the Doctor sat down heavily, leaning his face into his hands. Sarah Jane let him be for a while, but then she quietly made a cup of tea and put it down at his elbow. When he didn't acknowledge her, she put a hand on his shoulder."

"What is wrong, Doctor."

"I am. You realise all this is my fault, don't you? Most of the time I can pretend I don't know what happens when I fail to put a stop to the Master, but then something like this happens, and I'm reminded. All these people, ordinary innocent people, like the Greys, who die or disappear, because of my failures. And their friends and family who are left wondering what happened, like Mrs Thomson, without explanations or closure. How many nights do you think Janice Thomson has spent without sleep for worry about her sister?"

"You are not responsible for the Master's actions."

"No? I'm not so sure, Sarah."

"In that case I think you should start doing what you can to find Alison Grey. Or do you really think it's too late?"

The Doctor brightened slightly. "Perhaps not. I need to calculate a point in time which is as close to the time she disappeared as possible, without tangling it into my timeline."

"And you think you can find the Master."

"I can always find the Master, unless he isn't actively trying to hide from me, it's just that I usually don't want to."

The Doctor laughed without joy. "I'm sure the Master will be perfectly willing to bargain for her freedom, and it will cost me more than I care to think of."

Sarah Jane put her hand in his and pressed it. "But you will still try to help her, don't you?"

He smiled down at her. "Of course I will. After all, that is what I do."

END


End file.
